Dearest
by FR02EN V01CE
Summary: Yohio has been raising Len, a monstrous kid that his boss regards as a "cool" but clearly dangerous "investment." Kiyoteru is trying to establish a relationship with his orphaned niece, Miku, before she goes to live with his other sister. Everyone would stay safe if their stories didn't converge, but love is impossible to ignore, and maybe a family can grow here...
1. Scum

**WARNING! Chapter contains gore, cussing, a homophobic slur, and altogether not a great story. But I had fun writing it.**

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* * *

 _It stands to reason that desperate people cling to desperately bad things, and Yohio was and is rather desperate._

 _He remembered how shitty he looked when he surveyed his reflection in a car window. His eyes were blackened by furious fists. His busted lip was still barely healing. His side was burning with the beat down that had occurred a week prior, although it barely registered in his mind - he was used to that pain, in places that no one could see. He had never taken a school photo with any injury upon his face, but he couldn't ever change in the school locker room. If there was a time that his torso and thighs weren't purple and green, he couldn't remember._

 _He was nineteen then, and secrets had come spilling out of their careful containers. The bruises were bare, he was out; and this new freedom came hand in hand with a terrifying vulnerability. Park benches were hard, cold, and temporary thanks to the constant police presence in nice public areas. He was an unsightly, gangly thing that the average upright citizen, clearly, did not want._

 _So he appealed to the scum._

 _On a regular Wednesday, he entered a store that was musty and dark. There was an unusually well dressed man behind the register. He was tall, dark and handsome, almost Yohio's type. But not quite. He was too chipper. Clearly fake._

 _Yohio would come to know this man as a boss of sorts. At the time he was Tonio, partially Italian, definitely connected. Yohio kind of liked him after some conversations. The friendship they established was consistent, although not overly affectionate. It was mostly a succession of favors to one another, things that were not always alright with the law. It took a while to get used to those things. The specifics were painful to remember._

 _Yohio grew up just enough that he could almost tolerate living. He would come in every now and again with a weary look, and Tonio would provide a task for him - with increasing urgency - all the way until Yohio was something of a full-time employee. He preferred it to sleeping under bridges._

* * *

The sunshine was thick and rough, straining Yohio's narrowed eyes. A dry breeze punched him in the face. Every swing of his leg managed to sting, as if the wounds on his calf were bone-deep. He did his absolute best to conceal the limp while he walked. He knew it was just the venom. He knew he had only been scratched.

But he was going to wring that brat's neck when he saw him.

 _He used his fucking venom on me._

That realization hurt more than anything. His pant leg was damp red and anyone could see it. He was embarrassed that the altercation had occurred.

The early morning was particularly unforgiving to people like Yohio. He always admired people that could get up at seven in the morning simply because they wanted to. Right now, a morning person would be crafting a masterful breakfast while they sang duets with little Disney birds.

His stomach churned at the thought of breakfast. He could've spent the morning in a soft bed, or face down in a plate of golden waffles, but no - he had to track down a vicious ingrate.

Where had the kid even gone? He didn't follow landmarks, or even street signs. There was nowhere for a young boy to go. In the end, Yohio trudged on like a machine, with no destination in mind. A father and a child looked at him curiously as he peered through the gap of a tall fence.

He decided to ask them, "Have you seen a blond kid with dark blue eyes, gray hood? Uh - about this tall?" He raised his hand to be level with his nose.

They told him, "No, sorry, good luck." The dad said this warily, eyeing Yohio's many piercings and ripped jeans. Not surprising. They were quick to leave, and then everything was silent again. It seemed that few people were walking around at this time.

* * *

 _"What did you say about precious cargo?" Yohio set his jaw, pushing his bleached blond hair away from his sunken eyes. He wasn't expecting a good answer to come from the other side of the counter. He really wasn't. Receiving a phone call at three in the morning had never yielded good results._

 _"Precious is an interesting word," Tonio sighed as he adjusted his cufflinks, "I want you to look at this." He motioned for Yohio to follow him into a prohibited section of the store. They navigated through the familiar room, with its thin curtains and the smell of sex, booze, and weed. Everything was dark and filthy, with weird lights pulsing in weird places. A rat skittered through the garbage-covered carpet and Yohio cringed hard._

 _They opened a closet and found two mops sitting in front of another door. This one led to an entirely different hallway, long and narrow. Its fluorescent lights made them look like zombies. The walls were greasy. Awkward and disturbing noises would float from the cracks in almost every door._

 _Tonio counted the numbered plaques in front of each door, and stopped at the painfully silent #14. He removed the deadbolt and pushed a key into the lock, but did not turn it for what seemed like forever. Then, after a torturous wait in the dingy hall, the door parted from its frame._

 _Yohio had never seen someone so small. The child was paper thin, ash blond, pocket-sized. He looked up warily, his face half-hidden by his unkempt and greasy hair. The blood on his cheek had not be wiped away yet. Yohio kept glancing back at the vivid mark for the entirety of his visit._

 _For some reason, Tonio had remained outside in the hall, as close to the door as possible. He remained casual to avoid any suspicion, but Yohio felt that the air was charged differently inside the room. He knew that he could be locked in if something encouraged Tonio's flighty tendencies._

 _There weren't windows. Only a single hanging light that was low enough the brush his head. The floor was covered in a thick plastic sheet, which thankfully wasn't covered in feces. Four bowls took up one corner of the ground. They were streaked with sludge._

 _"What is he?" He mumbled as he continued to examine the little boy. He didn't look particularly dangerous. Just...off. He was much too quiet and content in this cramped chamber. Not that Hio hadn't seen weirder things in association with Tonio - he'd just never liked how it extended to children. Unfortunately, Toni was a business man through and through. He put on his car-salesman voice and explained the stakes._

 _"This little ray of sunshine is #2 on the list. We bought him in bulk with all of his siblings. Worth about...500 U.S. dollars. Of course, the second he's reproduction-capable, he'll be well above your net worth, so...it's one of our cooler investments." Antonio readjusted his tie, smiling broadly. "Whaddya think, Hio? Did we invest well?"_

Am I this desperate?

 _Yohio blinked. The child never did. His pupils were incredibly small slits in the depths of his clear eyes. Every move that Yohio made was being tracked, even the way he shifted when he breathed. How predatory._

 _"Does he talk?"_

 _"This one? Not really. You shoulda heard his twin sister." Tonio's broad mouth and quick tongue were full of smooth words, painting the moment as normal. It wasn't._

Am I so desperate?

 _"He's not a human kid."_

 _"Nah." The dark-haired man straightened his tie. "He's kind of annoying to care for. He needs supervision and training, but our go-to guy has already lost a finger to this, uh, innocent angel."_

 _"So you want me to...supervise this thing?" Yohio bristled as the realization set set in._

 _"Oh, he's practically a little lamb! Trust me, that incident was not caused by any anger or hostility. He was the most obedient of the bunch. You say 'jump,' he'll say - well, nothing, because he prefers not to. He_ maaaay _be deaf. I don't really know. What I do know is that you really resemble him, and I can trust you with sensitive information for extended periods of time. Would you contain him for us in exchange for a considerable wage?"_

 _Of course, there was something in Tonio's lack of words that Yohio knew from years of conversation. He wanted to know why they were putting him up for this job - he'd never been much more than a goon, and he recognized how disposable he could be to Tonio's bosses. Still, that wasn't the most pressing issue in his mind._

 _"What does he need to eat?"_

 _"Pfff-" Tonio snickered into his well-manicured hand. "What doesn't he eat? Poor fucker left pennies in the toilet. Just use him like a compost machine - throw in egg shells, banana peels, whatever. He's the runt of the litter, you know - the cheapest to hold on to. Which is why he-"_

 _"Tonio," the other man repeated, his voice gruffer, "what does he_ eat _."_

 _So that became the pregnant pause which was one of Yohio's defining moments. He cocked his head at the child and thought of where he had been sleeping when he was nineteen years old. Was cold concrete worse than a plastic cover? What was the darkness of a street compared to this tiny room with no windows?_

Are we we really this disgusting?

* * *

Nooks and crannies yielded no results, even when he doubled back to look at them. It was tempting to call the little monster's name, but there was more than one person looking for him, so...It was better if Yohio found him quietly.

Soon, the man's heart began to sink. The blue sky was weighing heavily on him, making him light-headed. His throbbing wounds were becoming a distant buzz in the back of his head (or, more accurately, the back of his leg). He should've had breakfast. Or at least water. _That brat_ should have had breakfast. if Len didn't eat soon, he...

 _Gotta catch him soon._

To catch his breath, he leaned against a pole and swiped a hand over his unshaven face. A couple of birds shrieked up in the trees. They were dark, fluttery things. They looked unnatural in the soft green leaves. They cocked their heads to glare at him, and he knew with some certainty that time was an issue. How long had they been monitoring? ...well, at least he knew that he was close by. Otherwise they wouldn't be here. Probably. He swallowed and went on his merry way, never released from the bird's piercing gaze.

The street eventually narrowed into an alley that ended in a chain-link fence. The brick walls were lined with a fire escape. Long shadows were draped over every sinister corner. A full dumpster blocked almost the entire alley. The only way to pass it was to shimmy against the wall and slide in. Yohio had to stop at the entrance, hit by a smell so thick that he could taste it. He knew it all too well.

The foul, salty stench merely intensified as he staggered into the dark. Yes, he _knew_. He could hear the wet crunch.

* * *

 _Tonio chose not delve into origins, or really much of anything. He didn't, lie, though. He told Yohio what the child was good for, why he was wanted. Then he provided a set of very specific instructions, including what to do if he noticed he was being followed._

 _He would never forget the silent, meandering drive, or pulling up to the apartment building in that eerie darkness. They walked slowly, much to his annoyance. When he entered his apartment, he wracked his brain for a new plan. It was his job to house the boy for half a year, and he needed to fix accommodations fast. There was exactly one spare room, which he had crammed with a bunch of junk and dangerous objects._

 _The boy didn't move a lot. He mostly laid on the floor next to the air vent, where warm air was gushing around him. His eyes stayed perfectly open and active, and his little nostrils shifted as he sniffed the apartment._

 _Yohio crouched six feet away from him, observing the new creature._

 _"Hey," he said, "what's your name?" It was a fact which Tonio had neglected to share._

 _The child, too, did not have anything he felt worth sharing. He smelled things passively, pressing his cheek firmly against the floor. His blue scrubs were covered in gross brown stains, particularly around his chest._

 _Although he was hesitant to touch him, the little boy didn't seem to mind being touched - at least by Yohio. He was easy to carry. His cheeks were soft and cold and the red mark had dried into something Yohio couldn't wipe off, so he carried the tiny thing into his bathroom and sat him on the toilet._

 _"Do you know how to use a shower?"_

 _The boy sniffed a green bar of soap, ignorant and content._

 _"Can you hear me, little man?"_

 _He tapped the kid's earlobe and, for the first time, got a reaction. His narrow shoulders jumped in alarm. His eyes were fiercely focused on Yohio, his pupils constricting to pinpricks in vast blue seas._

 _The man backed up and put his hands out in front of himself as a barrier to protect his jugular. He had to reconcile the fact that he might lose a finger or two._

 _But when the child's lips opened, he shared something other than violence: "You smell good." His voice was dry and raspy._

 _Yohio blinked. The boy did not._

 _"...I used this." He pointed at the bar of soap, which was met with a curious blue stare, until the curiosity became overwhelming for the boy and he crammed the soap into his sharp teeth._

 _He snapped off half of the entire bar, chewing twice before he swallowed._

 _Yohio carefully took what remained of the cleaning product and placed it on a high shelf in the mirror cabinet._

 _"Have you used a shower before?" He asked, and the little man, somehow more lucid, managed to nod in response._

 _"Okay. So, you get in there and the shower makes you all wet. Then you squeeze the pump on this bottle and you rub the blue stuff all over you - don't eat it - and it's going to make all these...bubbles."_

 _"Bubbles," the kid parroted._

 _"Right. And then you get to wash them all off. That's gonna make you clean." Yohio cranked the shower handle on. A stream of cold water shot out of the shower head._

 _He held the boy back. "It's too cold right now, so you have to wait a minute." Though this earned another curious stare, which made him gulp. He was not prepared to lose a limb._

 _To his absolute relief, the boy mumbled "bubbles," and waited patiently for the shower to warm up. Yohio took one of the tiny hands and gingerly stuck it into the stream. The boy was alarmed by the temperature and stuck his other hand under the trickling warmth, grasping at drops in a way that reminded Hio of dogs biting at the water that came out of a hose._

 _Of course he did his very best not to laugh. "Take off that dirty stuff and do what I told you. I'm going to be outside so, uh, scream if you want me." So Yohio waited just outside of the door, hopping from foot to foot. It didn't sound like anything was going wrong._

 _But there was a very pleased cry of "bubbles," and Hio was doubly relieved by the sound._

* * *

"Fuck!" His toe hitched against something round and he flailed into the darkness.

His nose smashed straight into wet asphalt as stars exploded in his vision. He scrambled to get off his face, keenly aware of the startled growl that had come from the other side of the alley.

"Len?" He scraped the liquid out of his eyes. Looking around wildly, he registered the corpse next to him.

A man lay with his arms splayed over the ground, glazed eyes staring into nothing. His jaw hung open as if in the middle of a scream. There was no throat. A few bloody ribbons, maybe, but nothing much more. No bone could be seen. Maybe that was due to the lack of light. The ground around this cadaver was a murky puddle.

"Shit," Yohio snapped around and caught sight of a familiar hoodie. "Len, what did you fucking do?"

The boy looked painfully bored, sitting cross-legged on top of a dumpster. An ugly, unnatural calm had taken over his lean frame, so he sat as if he belonged there. His stained mouth pushed out a sigh.

"I got hungry," he muttered. He ran his tongue over slick fangs.

For a moment, Yohio couldn't see the boy. He saw only the animal, the assailant with its primal, indiscriminate hunger. It was the thing that had attacked him.

"This isn't 'hungry,' this is angry." His voice wavered and he mentally kicked himself.

 _Calm down. Its just the kid. Calm down._ He shook his head profusely, smearing more blood off of his face. Then he clearly saw his stupid, reckless Len, reclining on garbage. His heart slowed down a little.

"Is this what you want to do every time something doesn't go your way?" Yohio threw up his arms, sneering in disgust. "You wanna throw a tantrum and make a mess? Who do you think cleans this shit up?"

"Not you," Len reminded him with renewed ire.

"I can't even take you home now!" the man snapped. The ache of his leg began anew, screaming for his attention in fierce competition with the new pain in his freshly bashed face. He had to make a call and have everything taken care of, but first he needed to discipline-

Len's lips curled into a vicious, pointy smile as he leaned over his caretaker. "Not my problem, fudge packer."

.

 _"Can you hear me, little man?"_

.

Yohio looked back up and saw the bright red mark on Len's cheek - he hadn't noticed that he had smacked him straight across the face.

The fact that he wasn't sorry about it at all made him want to puke.

But they didn't say anything to each other after that. Len dismounted with quiet bitterness, and Hio called his 'boss.' They stood on opposite sides of the alley. Anyone within thirty feet could hear how viciously Yohio was being scolded.

" _Haven't you been watching him this whole time?_ "

"Yes."

" _Why do you fucking let him run off?_ "

"Im sorry," he said through gritted teeth, he would take any heat. He just didn't want anyone to find the body. He couldn't afford it. If the police found out, Tonio would straight up disown him. He'd be pinned for the murders, and then Len would go to the highest bidder.

Six years ago, Yohio had asked what Len ate.

In response, he'd been asked, "what would you be willing to feed him?"

He hadn't understood at the time. He thought Tonio was fucking with him. In the end, however, Len's appetite wasn't the biggest problem. The real question was, how many messed up things would he be allowed to do?


	2. Predator

**This chapter focuses more on Miku and Kiyoteru. It starts slowly, but it picks up by the middle.**

* * *

 **Summer**

Kiyoteru carried two of her three bags into the new room, most likely because he felt bad about making her carry things. The window looked over the quiet street. The floor was soft gray carpet. It felt nice under her feet.

Kiyo didn't look at her that much. When he did, he would give her a smile that didn't touch his coffee-colored eyes. Something about his demeanor was unsettling, but she didn't have the words to describe it, or even ask him what was wrong. He gave the impression that he was usually more easy-going than his tight, anxious movements would suggest. He told her that dinner was going to be ready in about an hour. She said okay. He said to yell if she needed anything. She said okay. With nothing left to mention, he excused himself from the room.

She began to unpack the things that were in her duffel bag - socks and such. She took too long staring at everything, tracing her fingers over the stitches and seams and loose threads. _They said they were her clothes._ She trusted them. _She knew it was all her clothes_.

The hospital bracelet was still in northern pocket she had put it in. She needed it to be sure of her existence. It said she was Hatsune Miku and that, to her, was all that she really owned. She may have been packing away her belongings, but she felt that they belonged to a dead girl.

Soon, everything was sorted into loose piles that she could stuff into empty drawers. After about fifteen minutes, she decided that the ache in her stomach was too much. Sitting down was too tempting.

She counted the fine lines in the ceiling and determined that she would be doing that a lot from now on.

She dug her phone out of her pocket and turned it on. A beautiful brunette smiled on the lock screen, clutching a small tealette in her strong arms. Miku curled up on her side and sank her focus into the woman's face. Her high brows and full lips were colored by a casual, steady hand - she was so natural with her make up, so tangible. She was called Meiko. Miku called her Mama, of course only in private, because it seemed embarrassing to her.

She considered skimming through her pictures again, but she was tired of doing that. In the end, she settled on her current favorite activity, which was staring into space. She could make an entire hour pass if she did just that. She made it through her hospital stay by gazing into nothing. Surely she could make it for several months in this place.

As if to prove that all that time had truly passed, Kiyoteru came knocking on the door.

"Dinner's ready," he informed her. "Are you hungry?"

Miku wasn't hungry, but she got up and followed him down to his itty bitty dining room. The food was steaming on what looked to be his fanciest plates. They were different from her mother's dining set, and aunt Sachiko's as well. That was because he hadn't inherited any fancy china when grandma passed away. He never even showed up at that funeral.

He pulled out a chair for her. The cushion was comfortable. He sat on the opposite side of the table and ate silently. It was merely inches across from her, but it felt like he was on the opposite edge of the universe. She couldn't tell what he had made, as the food tasted like air. It smelled good enough. Some chunks she recognized as chicken, and she pushed those to the edge of the plate as stealthily as possible.

Miku gave up on eating before he did, but he whisked the dishes into the sink as soon as she swallowed her last bite. She watched the street lights blink on, just outside the window.

"Do you need anything?" He asked over the click of plates. The faucet burst on. "Want some dessert?"

"No," the girl replied, tugging on strands of her teal hair.

He looked over his shoulder at her. "No sweet tooth?"

"No."

A long whistle came from his mouth. "I've never had a roommate who didn't want to steal my ice cream."

She didn't say anything. Still, he seemed less uncomfortable from this distance. He washed everything carefully, wiping the forks down twice. She wondered if he'd had many roommates, if he'd liked any of them. If he liked school. He probably did. He was a teacher, after all, educating middle schoolers in music. She noticed the piano sitting in a corner, clean and open.

Miku had never liked school that much. She didn't remember what she had been learning before the...well, she didn't remember. It probably wasn't important, considering that she was fifteen and no job involved any of the concepts she learned at that age. No one was going to begin a job interview with "the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell."

"Kiyo," he said suddenly. She turned to look at him. He was immediately sheepish, rushing to explain himself.

"I mean you don't - don't worry about calling me uncle or anything. I'm not used to it. So Kiyo is fine." He wiped the the back of his wet hand over his forehead. His straight brown hair was looking a bit messy.

"Mom said they called you Teru when you were small."

"Kiyo sounds cooler."

"Sharper," Miku agreed. Pleased by this progress, Kiyo came back to sit down across from her, and he didn't shrink from her gaze.

"Do you remember Christmas when you were three? I drove for five hours to meet you and you chucked a pine cone at me," he said with a faint grin. The street lights reflected in his thick glasses.

"I don't remember," she admitted, looking away with a healthy dose of guilt.

"You were probably too little," he added, a good-natured dismissal.

"Where did you go? ...why did you take five hours to come home?"

He mulled over his words, suddenly carefully of their weight. He looked tired as he thought about it. His hands were clasped tightly in front of him, positioned as if in prayer. After a shrug he told her, "you know it wasn't my home anymore. Sachiko probably told you the story, right?"

Miku shook her head. "Mom just said that you were far away and she thought about you a lot."

He clenched his teeth. "Yeah. I thought about her, too," his voice turned weak.

She didn't know how to comfort him then. Her fingers twitched. She left them in her lap, too cowardly to reach for him.

* * *

Miku stopped sleeping for the sixth time that night.

She didn't tell anyone. There was no point. She wasn't having dreams, but each time she found herself waking up with a distinct dread in the pit of her stomach. Her throat would be dry and her chest would be heaving. Thankfully she hadn't screamed this time, otherwise Kiyoteru probably would have stormed in to determine the cause.

She looked out the window and observed the warmly glowing street lights. The ground was so clean and empty down there. A single black cat slinked by, disappearing behind a dumpster that apparently blocked an alley. It looked bristled and anxious.

Theirs was one of a few houses before the street widened into a more major intersection. If she remembered correctly, the was an apartment building on the opposite side of that street. The property was rather cheap in comparison to her old home, much more densely populated. All this told her that things should be awful and dangerous, but she had yet to witness any criminal activity or, really, anything unpleasant. There wasn't even graffiti on the dingy backs of buildings. It was too quiet.

She thought back to the first grade, sitting in Mama's lap under the bright lamp of the living room. They held a book together, Mom's finger skimming under the words as they sounded them out. It was titled "Animals of the Rainforest," a dry, and admittedly amateurish book. But Miku had picked it at the library and she was stubbornly interested in its contents.

" _And...when an...apex pred- preta-" Miku squinted hard at the words as if she was having trouble seeing them. Of course, she had perfect vision, because the eye doctor had told her so before giving her a high five just last month._

 _"Predator," said Meiko in her rich, dark voice. "'When an apex predator is in the area, all the animals go silent as they hide.'"_

 _"What's a apex predator?" The girl asked, looking down at the page's depiction of a lion in the jungle foliage._ Again, it was a severely inaccurate book.

 _The brunette hummed thoughtfully as she combed through her daughter's bangs. Miku remembered the warmth of her touch and savored the memory. F_ _inally her mother answered._

 _"A predator is something that everyone else is afraid of. And it's not like a clown, or the monster under your bed. The predator can hurt everyone. We're all right to be afraid of it."_

Meiko spent a long time afterwards assuring an inconsolable Miku that the predators were in the wild. No bear or lion was coming to get them - unless Miku forgot to brush her teeth at night, or lied about not taking the last chocolate chip cookie, even though she really did take it.

Miku pressed her cheek against the cool window, watching for predators as the stagnant tears hung from her lashes. She wanted to fade away, fall into an unthinking void, but she kept remembering Mama's careful hands and her chocolate voice. So she stayed awake.

* * *

 _"He's not breathing." Yohio paced in front of the door, kneading his forehead feverishly._

 _A muffled reply came from his phone, the exhausted voice of Tonio: "He's a quiet kid."_

 _Yohio blanched, his brow crushed together in concern._ _"And he doesn't - he doesn't even_ blink _," He exclaimed,_ _turning a little so that he could see that kid from the corner of his eye. A puny boy, practically drowning in his new hand-me-down shirt, was lying belly-down on the floor. His back didn't rise or fall. Hio only knew that he was alive because of the way his eerie blue gaze would follow the slightest movements._

 _His newly washed hair was fluffy and wild, defying gravity with its strange texture. His skin was so_ gray _under all the dirt and caked blood, as if his veins were empty. His eyes were red-rimmed, and incredibly dim._

 _Toni really wasn't impressed by the report. "Tell him to blink. He probably will," was his comment._

 _"Is he undead or something? Jesus, Tonio, what aren't you telling me? Is he a..." Yohio's voice shrank. "...a vampire?"_

 _"A_ vampire _?" His boss gave a great and hearty laugh from the depths of his stomach. He even slammed his fist against something and caused another object to rattle. Yohio twitched as the laugh only grew stronger by the second. He attempted to force a word in, but there was no room with all the amused shrieking. He held the phone away from his ear until all he could hear was a sharp, painful wheezing. Then the phone clicked as Tonio hung up._

 _Yohio bit down on the curses that threatened to spill out of his mouth. His questions sounded stupid now that he heard them out loud, but he was sure that Tonio would keep vampire children. It was just the kind of "interesting" thing he would enjoy._

 _The lethargic boy was still eyeing him. This was the thing that had removed Big Al's finger in one bite? Sure he had the teeth for it, but even so...he couldn't be that powerful._

 _Yohio rummaged through his fridge for a certain plastic and Styrofoam package. He approached the child, slow and steady, then knelt next to him._

 _"What did they call you back in that place?" He asked. To his chagrin, he got no response._

 _"Well then, little man, we've got a few ground rules to cover. Rule number one: You can't leave the apartment without me. Rule number two: don't eat things I tell you not to eat._ Ever _. And rule number three..."_

 _Yohio tore the plastic and peeled a long slice of bacon from its pack. The boy bolted upright, his mouth hanging open at the sight of raw meat. Yohio couldn't help smirking at the pure, childish reaction._

 _After clearing his throat, he continued his announcement. "...you've gotta act natural from now on. The job that we've got is gonna take a lot of acting."_

* * *

Miku couldn't remember falling asleep, but she woke up again.

The sun was dripping across the street. Some primordial wisdom whispered in the back of her mind that, despite a resounding lack of proof, this light was unnatural. At least, it shouldn't be here right now. The sunbeams look sharp and angular, like they were meant to slice through the air. She hated how black and impossible the shadows were. She couldn't stand the complete absence of noise. It was like living on a desert island, all by herself.

She rose on unsteady feet, not thinking about the soft carpet this time. She'd let down her hair before going to bed. Now it was coiling around her shoulders, hanging in her eyes. It would prove to be a great enemy in her quest to see things clearly, but for now she ignored the tangles.

The stairs were teetering as she descended them. They screamed under her weight. This offended her - she wasn't even that heavy.

The wall caught her when her knees buckled. It seemed that the poisonous light was piercing through their curtains, creating glowing pools on the floor.

Kiyoteru looked up from his book and smiled halfway before he noticed her inability to stand. He went to her side immediately, his mouth moving to form words that she couldn't hear. He made her sit down on sofa.

"Not a morning person, huh?" He sighed, pressing his cool palm against her forehead.

"It's so bright," she whimpered, leaning into his gentle hand.

"Breakfast fixes everything," he promised. "Do you like pancakes?"

She didn't care, so she nodded along. He went into the kitchen, standing in a place where he was easy to spot. He piled fluffy golden cakes onto one of the plates from last night's dinner. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the light. There was nothing supernatural about the sun. She began to feel silly for stumbling around like a crippled foal.

He was dousing her breakfast in dark maple syrup when she hear a steady knock at the door. Years of "stranger danger" conditioning prevented her from answering by herself, so she called for her uncle's attention. He scurried over in anxious anticipation. Miku shrank into herself, turning towards the window to look out at the sidewalk. She saw a large black car with tinted windows, scooting away as if lives depended on it.

Kiyo looked through the peep hole and made a noise of awe...or concern. He said, once he had opened the door, "is everything okay?"

Miku was at the wrong side of the room to see what was happening. She only saw the way Kiyo's eyes melted with paternal instinct.

"Do you have a phone I can use?" Said a voice that was boyish and fearful. "I need to call my dad."

The surprise visitor was allowed in. Why, of course he could use a phone. What was his name? Was he hurt? Was he lost? The answer, in a meek tone, was thank you and no he wasn't hurt, he had a bad nose bleed but that happened all the time. His name was Len Kagamine, his father's name was Yohio. The door clicked shut and Kiyo raced into the kitchen to find his cell phone.

Miku's insides shriveled up, her stomach in knots. For some reason there were alarm bells blaring in her head as she scanned the boy's old sneakers.

His shoe laces were stained with something brown while every other inch of his footwear was clean, as if scrubbed raw. The sleeves of his hoodie were tainted by the same odd brown color. He was lean, and not overly tall, but still several inches above her. His chapped lips were flat with boredom. He had light hair bound in a lazy and ineffective ponytail, with most strands hanging loose in any directions they pleased. Fortunately for him, it all managed to stay out of his ice blue eyes, which were focused on Miku. He was studying her with even more intensity than she had done to him. He looked at her the way cats looked at birds.

She opened her mouth just a little, but the scream wouldn't come out. How did he manage to stand so still? Why was he so colorless? Her heart was already galloping against her ribcage.

"I found it!" As Kiyo called out, the boy's head snapped back in his direction. His expression shifted into something sheepish and grateful as he hugged himself.

"Thanks," he said, in that same anxious voice as before. He took the phone and dialed a certain number. The person that Miku presumed was his dad picked up instantly. The conversation sounded oddly cold, with only the shortest questions and answers being exchanged.

"I'm on the corner of...no...someone nice let me in...no, I'm fine." He simpered at something his father said. Kiyoteru hovered close to him with a thousand unspoken questions on his lips. To think that he was so comfortable around this... _stranger_ , when Miku's arrival had clearly disturbed him yesterday.

"Everything's okay now." The boy - Len, she remembered - hung up first, returning the phone with fervent "thank you"s.

"He's coming to get you, then? How long will he be?" The adult brunet inquired as he tucked his phone into his pants pocket for safe keeping.

"Well, he was on his way to work. He'll take half an hour, so I'm going to wait by the-" Len was cut off by the aggressive growl of his stomach. He quickly rewrapped his torso in his arms, his face full of perfectly believable shame. He began to rattle off apologies and goodbyes with a couple of stutters thrown in for realism.

But Kiyoteru smiled warmly. Miku knew what he was going to say, even though she hoped that she was wrong.


	3. Teach

**WARNING: cussing and some violence in** **the later half of this episode.**

* * *

Len seemed like a nice person. Overall.

He was adorable when he sat down to eat. He looked like a kid on Christmas, eagerly digging into the pancakes that Kiyoteru gave him. The man lived alone, and it wasn't often that someone enjoyed his cooking with this amount of zeal.

The blond responded to a lot of questions with "yes, Mr. Hiyama" or "not really, Mr. Hiyama," this in spite of the fact that he'd been told "Kiyoteru" was just fine. He gave a very succinct account of how he came to be there, which was that he stormed out in the middle of the night, wandered around to cool his head, got a nosebleed and decided to contact his old man. Kiyoteru's _favorite_ piano student, Kaito Shion, was a thousand times more talkative than this, yet somehow Len's words had more impact than a certain blue-haired pupil.

But there was something a bit dry and tired in Len's tone as well. Not only was he apparently shy, he was also a bit distracted.

"You were just wandering around all night?"

"Yes."

You know that can cause a cold."

"Yeah, Mr. Hiyama."

"Did you have anywhere to go?"

Yes."

"So why didn't you go there?"

"Yes."

That was when he realized he only had half of Len's attention.

Miku had exiled herself to the opposite end of the table, picking morosely at her breakfast. She didn't even acknowledge the strips of crispy bacon, whereas Len had consumed those faster than the human eye could observe. Every now and again she would eye the boy, whipping around whenever he caught her staring. And he seemed to be staring at her, too, whenever she was focused on her food, during a lull in conversation. He'd turn back to the conversation whenever she was looking at him.

Kiyoteru hadn't had a crush in quite a while, but he'd witnessed its tender beginnings enough to suspect something was brewing in their awkward tension. It was clear to him that neither kid was too interested in talking. He went away for a minute to pour himself a hot cup of coffee (though he certainly prefered it iced). He thought back to how Meiko had been with her boyfriend, completely taciturn and bug-eyed. How old had she been? He was only seven at the time that she started dating Mikuo Hatsune, meaning she must have been around sixteen. He remembered how cool they had been together...despite how nervous she often was.

When he came back to the pathetic table he called a dining room, Miku was white as a sheet and her bacon was gone. Before he knew it, Len was done, thanking him softly for the meal. All that he had left was a glass of orange juice in his hand.

"Do you live very far from here?" Kiyo inquired as he settled back down.

"Not that far," said Len. "But I didn't bring my keys." Upon saying this, his shoulders relaxed. As a matter of fact, he seemed much more at ease than when he first entered. He still kept his face down.

"No keys, no phone...gosh, you really bolted without a second thought. Your dad must be worried sick." _He'll probably be really upset when his son says he ate food that a stranger gave to him._

The boy lowered his voice to an agitated whisper. "Nah, he knows I'm fine. He's just mad." His pure blue eyes and serious brows were heart-wrenching.

"You really think so?" Kiyo whispered back in a scandalized tone. He drank from his mug and winced upon realizing the complete lack of sugar.

"Yeah. Just mad." Len sipped his juice.

"I'm sure that you two still care for each other," the brunet reasoned, "and now that you've had some time to think on your own, you can work things out properly."

Len tossed him a cold smile, the kind that looked unnatural on a young face. "If it was a misunderstanding, prob'ly. Our problem is, let's say, conflicting interests."

Now Kiyoteru felt something. It was a nagging little voice that swore he had heard someone speak those words before. He shrugged it off and asked, "Pertaining to what?" before he took another sip of pungent black coffee.

Len's eyes rested, completely unmoving, on the adult's face. He seemed to be waiting for a reaction, analyzing the tiniest twitch. "Well, Mr. Hiyama, what kind of argument would make _you_ run away from home?"

Kiyo laughed the awkward question off. He was old enough that he wouldn't freak out over it, but on the inside he was rather unnerved. The boy was much, much more comfortable now, and that actually bothered the music teacher even more.

Miku's chair squealed against the floor as she escaped her place at the table. They both watched the tealette stow her mostly uneaten pancakes in the microwave. Her hands were shaking. Len narrowed his eyes when she glanced back at them.

 _Have I misjudged their feelings? Ah, geez, do they hate each other?_

"Not be rude or anything" - Kiyoteru jumped as new words smashed the silence - "but I don't recognize her at all." The words were innocent enough, but the tone was suspicious.

"Um...she's-" the man was cut off as a new fist pattered against his door. They were urgent and nerve-wracking, so he leapt out of his seat and opened the door to a startling stranger.

This new person was a tall, well-muscled gentleman, decorated with piercings, with messy blond hair that was _begging_ for a brush to put it out of its misery. A jacket had just barely been thrown on. Stubble coated his sharp jaw. His deep-set eyes were anxious, but focused, and they were the color of cherries. He began to say something but paused with his mouth hanging open, gazing down at a bewildered Kiyoteru who suddenly felt very conscious of his baby blue slippers.

"...I," his eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head. "LEN!" The music teacher jumped back.

Len sauntered up to the door with a sweet smile. "'sup."

"Honestly. You," the tall man gritted his teeth. There was a flame of incredible anger in his narrowed eyes.

"How was your night? Pleasant? Quiet?" Len inquired with bitter sarcasm.

Almost instinctively, Kiyo stood closer to the boy. "He's had breakfast." _Please don't be angry about it._ "I made pancakes. I'm Kiyoteru Hiyama, I work at the local junior high by the way?" He almost cringed. He could definitely do better with practice, but his nerves often got in the way of impromptu introductions. And the tension between these two was so thick that it looked like they would drown in it.

"God, sorry. Yohio," the man said, identify himself. He dropped the furious expression that he'd had. "I'm, uh, that's my..." He gestured lamely to his heir apparent, whose smile was suddenly that of a successful negotiator.

"Your son is very...pleasant. I've never seen him in any of my classes, so In assuming he goes somewhere else...?"

"He's homeschooled," Yohio answered, almost automatically. And there it was; the thing that made Kiyo even more confused. _"I don't recognise her at all."_ Why would Len know enough of the junior high students to suspect that Miku wasn't local? He seemed like the type that wouldn't have a lot of friends in the first place.

The teacher nodded and scraped up some extra words. "I see. He seems alright, now. If you two are in a bit of a crunch for time, I guess it's goodbye-"

"Actually," Len interjected, "my old man looks like he didn't get any coffee this morning. I don't want to be a bother, but do you think you could hook him up?"

Yohio whispered a menacing " _Len!_ " His face flared with cartoonish embarrassment.

"It's alright," Kiyoteru chuckled, hoping to soothe the addled father.

Yohio looked...torn as he said, "I really should just take him home."

Len had turned back to Miku, who was peeking from around a corner like a frightened deer. He smiled at her and she ducked back into cover.

"The lady of the house isn't ready to entertain guests," Kiyo informed him. "I suppose it is goodbye for now."

Len's face became unreadable when this was said.

"Here. It's not much, but-" Yohio fumbled with his wallet for a minute before Kiyoteru stopped him.

"Please, you didn't ask me to do anything!" He insisted. _I feel so bad for this person. He looks like he just got dragged on the ground._

"I'm not sure how else to thank you for looking after his sorry butt." Yohio continued to look flustered in the same way that Len had been upon his arrival.

"Other than an actual 'thank you,' I think a handshake will suffice."

Yohio shook his hand with such a firm grip that he could've pulled Kiyo out of the house with one sharp tug. He offered many thanks, which Kiyoteru couldn't help but laugh about, and they parted ways very easily.

He inhaled deeply once he shut the door. He slid down the wall and rested his arms on the tops of his knees. _So nerve-wracking._ They seemed to have so many tiny issues that just piled up out of public view. Maybe they were having a rough time after divorce, or...Yohio was really, really young to be a father. He couldn't possibly be older than thirty. Was there abuse? If it wasn't for the lack of bruising, Kiyoteru would have assumed that Len had been punched, and the blood came from an actual fight with his father. But Yohio didn't seem all that violent.

"Kiyo?" Called a voice, soft and sweet with the lightest accent.

"What is it?"

Miku was clinging to the wall, hiding behind her long locks of hair. "Did they scare you too?" She murmured. He couldn't get over her eyes. They were the same shape as Meiko's, even down to the curve of her lashes. If she was pretty now, he couldn't really imagine how beautiful she'd be when she grew up.

"Everybody scares me, Hon. I'm an anxious person."

"I mean, did they make your skin crawl?" She crept over to his side and sat down. This was the closest she had been of her own volition.

In his heart he was screaming with excitement, but he kept his manner as professional as possible. He coughed, "Well, Len is probably one of those old souls, you know? He and his dad looked really, really stressed out." He didn't believe they were bad people. He didn't regret letting in a lost boy.

"'Old soul' is teacher speak for 'the freak who can't get along with other people,'" Miku said, her eyes accusatory and pained.

He laughed. "Hey, I'll have you know that my teachers called me that all the way until college."

"They called me that, too. Aunt Sachiko translated it for me."

Kiyo stopped laughing.

For a minute, he didn't know what to tell her. Neither of her parents had ever been this gloomy. Kiyo had, but people hadn't exactly rushed to his aid when things were happening. He had to come up with the kind adult stuff by himself.

"Sachiko...barely passed any of her English classes. Don't ever rely on her for definitions," he decided to say.

"Okay," Miku said, her word for "please stop talking." He figured it wasn't a success, but he could try again another time. They both looked around the room as daylight danced through the windows. He thought it was nice.

* * *

 _"Roll over!"_

 _Little Man dropped onto his belly and rolled across the concrete floor. When he was finished, he stood on his knees and waited for the next command._

 _Yohio was glancing between the boy and the book in his hands: "Training." It had a golden retriever with a wagging tail on the cover._

 _"Sit!"_

 _Little Man sat down and crossed his legs, mirroring Yohio's position on the floor. There was a chair just a few feet away, but it was being used for something else._

 _"Speak!"_

 _"Tax evasion," he yelled, so that he would be heard over the muffle grunts on the other side of the room. Yohio hadn't taught him a lot of cool words yet. They were working on it._

 _"Shake."_

 _They each stuck their arms out, grabbed onto each other, and shook hands._

 _"You're getting good," Yohio said. He reached over to his left and grabbed the package of deli ham that was sitting there. He gave the child two slices, which he ate like a vacuum eating dust. A short scream punctured the silence, followed by a series of intense gasps that seemed to rip the air apart._

 _"You know what you gotta work on, though?" Hio sighed, cupping his sharp chin in his hands. "You keep forgettin' to breathe."_

 _Little Man paused to think about this. "Breathe?"_

 _"You've gotta breathe, or else people know there's something wrong."_

 _"You breathe a lot," the tiny blond observed._

 _"That is true. I need oxygen to live," Yohio answered._

 _"Oxygen?"_

 _"Air. We get it from, uh, plants. You know, trees n' stuff. They use sunlight and water to make food, and they make oxygen too." He provided vague gestures to indicate "trees n' stuff."_

 _After another thorough thinking session, the boy asked, "Can I use sunlight?"_

 _"Pffft. Nah, you're a thorough carnivore, Little Man." Yohio liked this new curious side that he was seeing. His new 'ward' was asking a lot of questions before he did something. Of course, the Why Game gets annoying after some time, but when a child is genuinely interested in how something works, they ask the silliest questions. It was refreshing, he realized, to have someone to talk to at work. Someone who wasn't an utter piece of shit, anyway._

 _"I like eating," the kid commented as he glanced at the other side of the room. The silver-haired man was tied to the chair with his nose broken and a considerable chunk of his arm missing, sweating with effort as he attempted to move from his pathetic position. He and the chair were currently on the floor, which happened when he got too excited and didn't account for his balance. They elected not to fix his problem before a short break._

 _"Yeah, I know. Do you like people?"_

 _"They scream a lot." Little Man quietly laid back down on the ground, looking at the spider webs on the ceiling. "I like bacon better. It doesn't scream a lot."_

 _Yohio's brow scrunched up as the kid blinked at him. He reached over and tousled the tangled blond locks._ I need to brush his hair again _. He thought the child, for all his awkward stares and lack of breathing, was cuter than other children. Maybe if he had a heartbeat - maybe if he ate normal food - somehow he could be a normal kid that asked about the food chain in a classroom._

 _"I'm sorry about the screaming," Yohio said, "it's really annoying, but we need him to tell us where he hid something super important." He brushed his thumb over the child's cold cheeks and eyelids._

 _"The powder," Little Man clarified, hooking his tiny fingers around Yohio's._

 _"_ Exactamente _. Hey, Dex, you wanna tell us where you put that powder?"_

 _The silver-haired man growled, "fuck you, Yohio, you know I didn't take anything."_

 _Hio's eye twitched. "...Can you watch your language?"_

 _The bound man lurched around, looking quite feral as he declared, "Fuck you and your little gremlin! Both of you can go fuck yourselves."_

 _"C'mon, act your age."_

 _"Eat a dick, you fucking fa-"_

 _Yohio bolted from his seat and marched over to the offender. He kicked him square on the stomach, the sound of which was a squishy thud, and knocked him over on his back. He dug the steel toe of his boot deep into the pit of Dex's neck, making him choke and spurt a thin red ooze. Something made a thick cracking noise. Probably the chair._

 _"About my little gremlin," he said darkly, pressing his weight down on his victim, "you've heard the stories, right? You know that one bite stops your blood from clotting. That's the venom. D'you know what three bites can do to a grown human?"_

 _"Ggggrkh," the other man replied._

 _"Little Man, you wanna show this guy what three bites does?"_

 _The boy leaned over the man's face, cocking his head to observe the struggle. Dex's veins bulged and his face turned bright red._

 _"It's not lunch time," the child muttered._

 _Yohio laughed. "We can still have hot dogs after this."_

 _Len perked up. He ignored gravelly screams as he sank his sharp little teeth into an unguarded limb, rending the flesh from bone with little effort. Blood flooded his face, but he clearly didn't care._

 _He also proved just how dreadful three bites were._

* * *

The next time someone knocked on the door, Kiyoteru was expecting it.

He made sure Miku was, too. He mentioned his favorite piano student. She understood and disappeared into her bedroom soon after.

He thought she would stay there for the rest of he day, but to his surprise she tiptoed down the stairs at half past noon, her hair bound in loose twintails. Possibly hungry.

It was just a few minutes after Kaito had sat down and engaged his teacher in a deep conversation about the woes of writing lyrics. "I'm not inspired," he lamented, "It's just so difficult, you know? Like God himself conspires against this hand. Like heaven itself is fighting me." At this he struck a dramatic pose that was only half intended to be ironic, and hugged his folder closer to his chest.

It was equally as difficult to console the blue-haired teen about his rather dissonant passion. "Are you sure you don't want to write a song about writer's block?"

This suggestion was met with a severe scoff. "That's like cooking a meal out of hunger, Mr. Hiyama. Like making clothes out of nakedness. Like-"

"Kaito-" came the feeble attempt to stop the word attack.

"-Like marriage without love, like storms without rainbows at the end!" He threw up his hands to make another dramatic gesture and dropped a folder full of loose papers on the floor. He picked them up as quickly as he could so that his teacher wouldn't have to stoop down to help.

"Can you explain these similies? I'm afraid I'm not following." Kiyo adjusted his glasses just to feel a bit smarter. He always felt a bit dumb when he was talking to Kaito - which made him happy, because he liked being challenged and, in the end, understanding people.

Kaito was in the middle of laughing at the conversation when he saw Miku for the first time. Sheet music was dripping out of his arms. His blue scarf was slipping from his neck. He stopped to say, "Hello!" And she, with all her bashfulness, ran into the kitchen to avoid further contact.

"That's my niece," said the teacher, who did not know how else he could go about introducing her.

"Ah." In his typical manner, Kaito adjusted his scarf and pretended not to be bothered. But still, in a way that he thought was sly he asked, "Does she like it here? Has she gotten a tour yet?"

"She's still acclimating." Kiyo considered how she felt about the environment. She hadn't shown a lot of curiosity. In fact, she probably found the area and it's residents distasteful. He wanted to respect her space, especially considering the circumstances that placed her in his very temporary care. But he didn't want her to hate his home...

"Maybe we should ask her how she feels."

* * *

 **Thanks Keirekun, for the supportive review!**


	4. Little

**Sorry I've been gone for so long! I just been hella sick lol**

 **Thank you Poomkin, Captain and Hero, SparkyBubbles and Yanagi-sama for your really kind reviews! I hope you all continue to enjoy the shenanigans. I decided to make this chapter extra long to atone for my sins.**

 **This chapter focuses a bit on Miku and then reveals more on Len and his life, kinda. Of course there will be violence and cussing, a homophobic slur and cruelty involved, but also bananas.**

* * *

 _blink._

 _inhale._

 _observe._

 _exhale._

When's dinner?

That guy hasn't moved in forty-eight minutes.

 _inhale._

There's a fly crawling all over his nose and cheek.

 _blink_.

This place is gross.

The ground is gross.

 _swallow the blood._

This aftertaste is gross.

I should start carrying gum.

 _exhale._

There's stuff stuck between my teeth.

I've gotta get better at this. I'm told I eat like an animal. Can't argue with that. But it's hard to be gentlemanly about my meals, given what I have to do.

I'm constantly on manual function. Not the luxury of involuntary breathing. What a pain in the ass.

 _inhale_.

At any rate, I'm doing good. Compared to the others, I eat like royalty. It's not my place to complain.

 _blink_.

Still hungry, though.

* * *

 **two days after the previous chapter...**

Miku had always been more reserved than other kids.

She'd always struggled to remain excited for social events and parties. Conversations that lasted beyond the small-talk phase were difficult to continue. She did have a lot of friends back home, but most of them were the kind of friends that would share jokes and quiz answers during English class, not the kind that would call her if she was out of school for a few days. She did get three texts from two different classmates at the end of the school year, but she couldn't be bothered to reply. She didn't have the energy to maintain her relationships.

And maybe it was better that way. She knew she was really emotionally draining and that wasn't what kids her age deserved. Hell, her own family had a hard time dealing with her these days, and they cherished those moments that she wasn't in their custody. Which was probably why Kiyoteru kept urging her to go with Kaito Shion and his other friends. She had been with her Uncle for less than a week and she had already poisoned his home with dread and personal hang-ups. She figured the least that she could do was oblige him and get out of the house for a day.

"Good morning Miku! Are you ready to go?" Kaito revealed a very beautiful smile, the kind with full cheeks and dimples and perfectly straight teeth. There was another girl and boy standing behind him with smiles almost as bright. She stared at him for what felt like hours until Kiyoteru nudged her, his expression encouraging.

Miku didn't say anything as she stumbled outside into the warm, strong light. She was still painfully tired, her eyes stinging as she scoured her surroundings. There were even more people outside today. The other two kids greeted her with equal enthusiasm but she couldn't manager more than a "hi" in return. She tugged consciously at the hem of her pastel purple shorts. Since God neglected to smite her where she stood, she finally looked back at her Uncle with pleading eyes.

"Bring her back home before six, okay? I won't be here before five o'clock because I'll be out buying some things, so, Miku, here's your copy of the house key. Call me at lunch time, kiddo." Kiyoteru said all of this with a lot of warmth, and tucked the key into her slightly sweaty hand. She stuck it in her pocket and said "okay."

When he closed the door, she felt alone almost instantly. Then, just as quick, she wasn't.

"My name's Luka!" said the girl, whose glossy, straight pink hair was the envy of all hair. Her eyes were a cool gray color that looked blue under the summer sky, which matched the blue pendant she wore around her neck. As it turned out she had the widest and most inviting smile, completely unashamed of her braces, as girls ought to be. She wore cherry lip gloss. Her eyeliner was thick, and just a little crooked on her left eyelid. As for her build, she was one of those tall, leggy girls that made Miku think of a Barbie doll. She grabbed Miku's hand and shook it very firmly.

"I'm Gumo," added the other boy. He had a rather quite voice, but he seemed just as agreeable as everyone else. He was covered in freckles and wore red-framed glasses that kept sliding down his nose. His eyes were even more green than his hair. His orange clothes were a bit baggy on his small frame, but he looked comfortable in his attire.

"We all go to school together. We know that you aren't staying for the year, but just in case you want to know, our middle school is a fifteen minute drive from here." She didn't want to know, but at least she had a frame of reference for the town's size. She fell into pace with the group as they cut across the street, with only her and Gumo bothering to check for traffic. Merely a few cars were parked in this neighborhood.

"Where do you come from, Miku?"

The tealette weighed her options for privacy before answering, "Up north. You guys probably haven't ever heard of my town, so..."

"Is your town close to any lakes?" Kaito asked, urging her on.

"Uh, I've never seen a beach or anything, so I dont think we have a lake."

Luka gasped. "Can you swim?"

Miku shook her head and Luka exchanged a smile with her blue-haired friend. "Well, the beach is just a bus ride away from here and I'm basically a fish with feet! I'd be happy to teach you sometime!"

Miku forced a polite smile. "That'll be cool," she replied, thinking of how dreadful and big the ocean must be.

They cut by the alley way that Miku had been staring at every night. Soon enough, they all started joking about the dumpster. From their diction it seemed like they had some kind of inside jokes about it, and Miku had to wonder how often they visited their teacher's neighborhood.

"It smells kinda like compost over here!" Kaito exclaimed in a nasally voice as he pinched his nose.

"It smells like rot," Gumo corrected. "Something must've died in there."

Miku thought about it for a second and gagged. The smell really wasn't that strong, but she'd always had a weak stomach. The three friends looked over at her with concern. An awkward silence soon enveloped them, and it took all of Kaito's power to destroy it. He did this by making an extremely convincing fart noise.

"Kaito!" the pink-haired girl screamed, knocking her fist against the side of his head. Gumo merely chuckled.

Miku coughed out a laugh so as not to make them worry. Kaito beamed in her direction, so she looked away.

"We're going to the café for lunch, but before that we're seeing all the sights," Kaito said. "There's the library, the movie theater, the park - all the conventional spots. D'you wanna go anywhere first?" The group was already heading down the big street. They didn't cross it, instead walking next to traffic. Miku couldn't imagine a sidewalk as clean and new as the one that she now walked on. All the mom and pop shops that they passed looked nice and fresh, not run down or sad like the ones she had seen in other cities. Traffic wasn't terrible. It was too happy, too nice.

"The park is really nice this time around. People are even walking their dogs." Luka recommended, stretching her arms.

"You'd think they would stop letting out their dogs and cats considering the events last year," Kaito whistled.

Miku swallowed. "Events?"

Kaito reached up to a streetlight and patted a flyer. The thing was faded and torn, clearly abused by all kinds of weather, but she could make out the text: LOST CAT followed by distinguishing information, a picture of the aforementioned feline, and the phone number of an owner that was surely worried sick. This was only one of the flyers. The pole had the faces of two other dogs on it. Miku turned to see other telephone poles and, sure enough, they all had their fair share of posters, MISSING and LOST and even HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

Luka smiled sweetly before dragging Kaito a few feet away. They began having an argument in whispers, but with how loud they actually were, they might as well have said everything to Miku. Their conversation was mostly "you're making her uncomfortable!" versus "You're only saying boring, cliche nice-to-meet-you stuff!"

Gumo was minding his own business when Miku decided to ask, "do you know what happened to all those animals?"

He looked at her for a long time, which made her squirm a bit. "The police said that it was a wild animal. It wasn't breaking into backyards, but if you went outside with your dog and took your eye off of him for three minutes, well...you probably wouldn't see him again."

Kaito and Luka joined them again, looking less irritated. They put on the tour-guide smiles and fixed their voices to be perfectly bright and cheery. Their lack of normalcy made Miku wonder what they were like in school. Probably theatre kids.

"How do you feel about animals, Miku?"

"They're cute," Miku replied. In truth she wasn't too fond of dogs or cats, but she didn't hate them either.

"There's a pet shop a few blocks from here. You wanna go see some bunnies?"

It was oddly comforting to know that an unharmed shop full of fuzzy little friends was thriving in this area. Miku didn't know what to expect, so Kaito regaled her with tales of the colorful fish and the huge old parrot that greeted customers. There was also snake skin in a jar, but fortunately for the nervous tealette, this item was kept in the back of the store.

Getting there took less time than they thought it would. It was indeed very small, sandwiched between a thrift store and a cute little antique shop. It smelled rather well in there, even though logic dictates that a store full of animals will smell like urine. The shelves were lined with bags of food and treats. An old gumball machine stood guard in the corner.

"Hey Mew!" Luka greeted. The woman behind the counter nodded once, not looking up from her phone. She was as pale as bones, with jet black hair, eyes and lips; her thin arms were covered in intricate tattoos. They were beautiful, really, appearing just like calligraphy against her skin. She suddenly shot Miku a look that could have given the girl a heart attack.

Miku panicked, of course, but instead of looking away like she usually did, she pulled her hand out of her pocket, very clumsily, and gave a little wave. Mew simply rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling.

That interaction felt familiar in the worst way possible.

Miku didn't see any parrot, but she saw an Angel fish with a beautiful tail, and a small pen with lethargic bunnies in it. Their care giver was Yukari, a curvy young woman whose almond eyes and twitchy nose made her even cuter, somehow. She told them to be careful of the brown bunny - Cocoa - but otherwise have fun.

Luka cooed and coddled the little things, inviting Miku over and over again to feel their fur. Which she did do, and she found it rather underwhelming. Luka was clearly enjoying the trip more than anyone, which begged the question of why she hadn't bought any of these bunnies already. Gumo realized rather quickly that they should move on, and so said his goodbyes to the workers, and then escorted his friends outside.

"Where do you want to go next, Miku?"

"Maybe we should show her the arcade," Gumo said, and Miku nodded. Once again, Kaito began an anecdote without so much as pausing for breath, and Miku enjoyed the several minutes of not talking whatsoever. "In the seventh grade, Lui Hibiki drew a dick on the Pac-Man machine in permanent marker, and the owner just straight-up replaced it.. But then the year after that, Lui Hibiki drew a swastika on the back of the machine, and the owner replaced it with a Whack-A-Mole. You'd think they would stop, or ban him or something, but they didn't, and Lui drew a swastika made of dicks on the Whack-A-Mole. Then Lui Hibiki and the Whack-A-Mole mysteriously disappeared from the establishment forever."

"The Hibiki family moved away," Luka interjected.

"Ah, but that is because Lui Hibiki suddenly went blank. He disappeared behind the eyes, and he just stopped talking. Who knows what happened...?"

Miku grimaced and Kaito quickly changed his tone. "One time a bird flew in there. It was weirdly big," he said. When Miku didn't respond, he shut up.

The arcade was across the street from a laundromat. It had an ugly brick exterior and yellow windows. Fortunately it was freezing inside. The floor was a red carpet, equally ugly as the outside. A large red clock was on the east wall. Each game had a small crowd of kids around it, eagerly awaiting their turn on the machine. Gumo led the way to the Frogger machine, which somehow still took quarters. Miku opted not to play it, instead watching over his shoulder for a round. Kaito asked, with a gleam in his eye, if Miku wanted to play DDR. She told him she would rather watch Luka beat him, and this sparked a friendly competition.

Their trash talk and cries of glee flew in one of Miku's ears and out the other. She just watched the clock while they danced.

* * *

Len stared at the man, who stared back at him. This man was called Mr. Macne. He was hairy and big. His brow was furrowed so severely that it looked like his eyes may be crushed under all that weight. He was handcuffed to a pipe, and this put him in a position not unlike a dangling puppet. He smelled like a three-day car-ride. The two of them had never really spoken to one another. They had definitely seen each other once or twice. They lived and worked in roughly the same area, although Mr. Macne was prone to long distance travel that kept him and his real job far away from his family's café. In more accurate terms, they were _aware_ of each other.

"It's nothing personal," Len said, his lips quirking up into a smile. He swung his legs back and forth, the table beneath him creaking ever so slightly. The smart phone behind him was on, piercing the darkness with a harsh blue glow.

"Fuck you," the man slurred through broken teeth, whereupon a river of blood gushed from his mouth and soaked his mint-colored beard. His eyes were wet and hazy.

"No thanks." Numbers flickered constantly on the phone's screen as it captured their every sound. They had already gone two minutes without saying a single important word, which was unusual and lame, but today was supposed to be a boring day because Len ate without Yohio's permission. It was a punishment, sort of. The blond wasn't allowed to touch their captive, or eat anyone, unless someone decided to throw him a bone - literally.

All they could really do was entertain themselves until Big Al came back with a pair of bolt cutters or something.

The Staring Contest continued until Len's mind drifted to the subject of what a selfish _asshole_ Yohio was. The way Hio had limped for the past few days. The way he had looked. Len didn't want to think about his stupid caretaker anymore. He propped his chin on his fist and spoke to the only other guy in the room. "How much did you take, anyway? They wouldn't have sent you to us for, like, a kilo or two."

"I didn't take _anything,_ " Macne spat up a thick red glob. Len's smile widened at his words.

"I heard they found you in a five star hotel with three lady-boys and a goat. While I really wanna ask what that's about, I'm sure you wouldn't let me record that for posterity." There were a lot of pigs in their business, and they all claimed innocence when the chips were down. It was hilarious. It was irritating. _If I could just rip his face off..._

Macne turned his head down. Worried that he might be losing consciousness, Len slipped off the table and jabbed the man's broad chest with his foot.

"This isn't the time to dissociate. We can do this the easy way. All you gotta do is tell me what you did with the, uh-" Len turned back and picked up the file on the table. In fifteen seconds, he had skimmed through the part he was looking for. Nothing he expected was there.

He whistled in admiration. "Wow, you didn't even steal stuff! That's, like, super unheard of in my department. They usually send us the thieves. Up top." He leaned over and slapped one of the man's open palms.

The green-haired man growled something as he scooted backwards.

"What's that?" Len hummed, leaning over to hear him better.

"Why'd they send a kid down here?"

That was a common and stupid question. People acted as if they didn't know what was going on in their own little town. Anybody that worked for Tonio had a vague sense of what Len was, and ignorance was an insult. "This paper says you...is that a typo?" He waved the file in front of Macne's despondent face. This was the written statement that Len had trouble reading: "As far as we can tell, he attempted to decapitate Dexter Wolfe in cold blood."

The boy was fairly certain that Dex could not die. After all, he had survived three bites, and experimenting on him out of scientific curiosity was Big Al's favorite thing. If someone actually managed to sever Dex's spinal cord, that someone would be tortured for years on principle alone. Although greatly disliked, Dexter Wolfe was a precious asset.

When Len didn't get the reaction he wanted, he huffed. "Antonio's gonna figure it out, ya' know. This whole process is a formality."

"You're not even doing anything." The greasy green head lolled back as he wheezed, "What a joke."

Len shrugged, seething inwardly. This low-level asswipe was dismissing him, turning away, belittling him. He pretended to meander through his thoughts, using a sickly sweet tone as he remarked, "'Kid employees don't work unsupervised. It's not like little Nana just runs your café without help, right?"

Mr. Macne bolted upright, the lethargy in his eyes being replaced with murder. It seemed like maybe he wasn't going to act stupid, until he strained against his metal cuffs with the intent of breaking them. As if he could escape! What a joke! "Keep her name _out_ of your _filthy_ _mouth_."

Len raised an eyebrow at this, but otherwise flattened his expression into something more neutral. Such fatherly concern from such a useless cretin.

 _That's what they do, though, right? They defend their kids with all their heart because it's the only respectable part of their life. They're just scum who want to say "hold on a minute! I'm not a bad guy! I have feelings about my offspring."_

But after everything, there was no redemption for that kind of fool. He wasn't even worth eating. "What, do you think Tonio wouldn't do something to her if he thought it was necessary?" Len knew that Nana could be alone for hours at a time. She took out the trash at night when the rest of the staff was busy. She hummed and smiled to herself often, feeling completely secure in her quiet neighborhood, never checking behind her shoulder when she was alone outside. She would be an effortless target.

"Tonio knows my reasons," Macne said grievously, his nostrils flaring, "You say he's _going to_ , but he _has_ figured everything out. He won't touch her, and neither will you if you want to stay in one piece."

"Then what are you here for? A scolding?" The teenager scoffed. It now occurred to him that Macne was on...some kind of drug, because he looked like he was just beginning to wake up. All of his wrinkles seemed to appear at once, making him look even shittier than he had been upon arrival. He groaned as the pain in his jaw began to catch up with him.

 _He's not even sober. Barely resisting right now, but that broken mouth says that he put up a fight earlier. Did they really drug him? Then we're just holding onto him until someone comes to collect._ So _boring._

Big Al's thundering footsteps made the basement rattle. Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, he inquired as to what had happened when he was out. It didn't matter what the answer was, because his surly face stayed the same. He carried a heavy black satchel in one hand and a grocery bag in the other. Even in a place as wickedly dark as this, Len could easily make out Al's bulging, sinewy muscles, crisscrossed with incomprehensible scars. He shot the boy a glare and slammed his cargo on the table.

"Why's he here, Al?" Len inquired with an innocent tone.

"Eat," the muscle-head barked as he produced a banana from his plastic bag and threw it. Len caught the fruit, glowering as he peeled it open. He sat on the table again while the sound of clicking metal filled the room.

Macne made eye contact with Big Al and began to laugh. "Let me guess, you don't believe my story and you're gonna wring 'the truth' out of me."

Al ignored him as he unpacked the satchel. He turned to Len and urged the boy, silently, to hurry up with his snack. The food wasn't a gesture of kindness or caring, which both of them knew; neither one of them would mind if the other got hit by a bus on the way home today.

Len winced when he thought about home and averted his eyes, chewing furiously. He tried to remember something else, and he kept drawing a blank. That is, until he remembered a girl with long, blue-ish hair, who had stared at him almost constantly when they first saw each other. He laughed when he recalled her terrified face.

Once again, chains rattled on empty pipes. "You think I wasn't telling the truth? You'll find out soon."

Al held out a familiar instrument, staring expectantly at the boy.

"Seriously?" Len sighed with the entire contents of his lungs and accepted the unwrapped syringe. The adults didn't want him biting people, so injection was the next reasonable option in their minds. He rolled up his shirt sleeve, uncapped the tool with his teeth, and sank the needle deep into his flesh. It hit something and made his arm scream, but there was no reason to care about such superficial pain. He pulled the plunger until the tube was full, from end to end, with dark red sludge. His forearm was darkly bruised before he was done.

"Al, why don't you believe me? Dex can even tell you why I tried to do him in. It's not my fault. Al?" Macne had probably caught on to their plans because he was now almost shouting and scrambling in his seat.

He only got one person's attention. "I eat a lot of raw stuff," Len warned him, flicking the syringe for no reason other than to appear serious. "If the venom doesn't work, the salmonella will probably finish you off."

"I know where Rin is," the prisoner blurted. He didn't even register as his head was slammed back into the wall and held firmly in place with minimum effort.

Mr. Macne was a bona fide bore with bizarre fetishes. He didn't do anything that someone else couldn't do if he were gone. No one but his clueless friends and daughter would be worried if something happened to him. Yet, somehow, he had the gall to fear death, and to mention Rin in the hopes of distracting his soon-to-be tormentors.

"Keep her name out of your mouth," Len hissed, jamming the needle into the side of the man's sweaty neck. It was hard to keep the thing still because of all the awkward jolting and struggling, but soon every drop of thick liquid managed to disappear into Macne's blood stream.

* * *

The morning bled away from the kids without their notice. The clock read 12:14 before they'd even mentioned a restaurant.

By this time Kaito had slid into place next to Miku and drowned her in questions of varying topics, like her taste in music and her experiences with the supernatural. He spoke with alarming confidence, as if there was some kind of super-efficient method being employed to absorb Miku's interest. The reality was that he wanted to throw every topic at her, until something held her interest, so that he could draw from her a response that was longer than four or five words.

Kaito was ultimately an amazing cause of stress for her. He either didn't notice, or didn't want to notice her quiet disposition. Miku spent the most of their interaction nodding, and although it was rude, she'd tuned out some of the things he said. Relief came in the form of a cute cafe with big, glowing windows. They entered one by one, the door bell heralding their arrival. They were welcomed by a cute, cheery girl with mint-colored hair and a broad smile.

Luka addressed her. "Hey Nana! Window seat, please!"

"Right this way," said Nana, shepherding them toward the very corner of the restaurant. Miku sat next to Luka, across from Kaito, and waited as the gang exchanged pleasantries. Nana looked incredibly young to be working.

"Hello, hon, what's your name?" Nana waited with a wonderful, mild expression. Miku felt calm just looking at the girls cool green eyes. Something passed between them all of the sudden - a feeling that couldn't quite be named, but nonetheless struck them both very powerfully.

Miku gave the girl her name. "Oh!" Nana bounced. "You have the cutest name. I feel like mine is really boring."

"I like 'Nana'," Miku said, feeling more sincere than afraid. She took notice of the girl's round cheeks and soft brows.

"Did you just move in?"

"I'm only staying for the summer."

"Aww, really? Our winters are so beautiful. It's honestly more fun than summer vacation in this town."

It occured to Miku that they had met somewhere before. "We know each other?" she said, her voice betraying her total confusion.

"I think we do...? Gosh, I can't really recall. But I swear it feels like-"

"-it was for a really short time."

"Yes! And it must have been somewhere else, another town," she chirped.

They both giggled, very softly, at this recognition.

Nana asked for everyone's orders soon after. Kaito asked for more ice cream than a human should ever eat, while Luka opted for iced tea, and Gumo would be quite satisfied with a smoothie. Miku was getting a scoop of strawberry on a waffle cone. Not really lunch, but no one was complaining.

At some point, Kaito had begun talking about someone, very quietly. "-but he won't be there," was all Miku caught before the pinkette shut him down with "you don't know that."

Kaito seemed miffed. "You're a musical person, aren't you Miku?" he asked.

"Not particularly," she said, even though earlier she had told him that she used to take piano lessons.

"There," huffed Luka. The matter would have settled like that if not for a delicate remark - from Gumo, of all people - "It's not a bad place to hang out." His eyes were busy with a menu.

"Two to one vote!" Kaito declared. "Yay democracy - God bless America!"

Miku laughed just a little. Watching Kaito argue was more entertaining than speaking to him directly. His abundance of confidence and zeal made him an ideal politician. Only paint him orange, and the world would marvel at his strange words.

"It's called Sore Fingers," they explained to her. "They sell guitars and piano tuners and stuff."

But Luka looked uncomfortable, and she had only been considerate the entire time, so Miku said, "I think I'd rather just walk around, if it's alright with you. I want to be familiar with the area."

The boys relented; Luka was pleased. The silence that followed was, surprisingly, very comfortable.

Once their food arrived, Kaito had started up again. "What's something you really want to do while you're here?"

Miku, with strawberry on her tongue, gave him the most specific answer she possibly could. "I'm just trying to have a good relationship with my uncle."

His expression morphed into something more tender and honest than Miku thought he could possibly be. In fact, he almost looked handsome. "That's really sweet."

Her cheeks warmed. "I just need to figure out how," she added quietly.

"Well," he said, "are you interested in any music?"

"No..."

"You used to play piano, though? Wouldn't that be a great way to connect with him?"

"That's true, but I don't know if I could start playing again after all this time."

"I can't believe your parents are cool enough to let you stop! My mom is always making me stick things through to the bitter end," he chuckled.

 _Scales and chords. Clumsy little fingers, frustrated sighs._

 _"If you practice, you'll be wonderful, Miku."_

 _"But its so hard."_

 _"Everything is hard when you first start. If you really want to do it, you definitely will."_

Miku swallowed hard. "They are, aren't they?"

She couldn't taste her ice cream after that.

The conversation eased away from the open wound, and Miku gradually relaxed into her seat with something resembling a smile. She was proud that she managed not to weigh them down and ruin their afternoon.

But soon enough, everyone finished their food, and they were ready to go. It was going to be nice, and sunny, and probably even a little fun - then her phone rang.

Miku's stomach curled into itself when she saw the caller ID.

"Took you long enough," the caller hissed. "What, are you busy?"

Miku tried to conceal the tremor in her voice as she slipped away from her party of four. "Hello, Aunt Sachiko."

"You had me worried sick. Why haven't you called me?"

"I thought you wouldn't want-"

"There you go again, assuming the worst of me. I know Doctor Dell told you how to dismantle those irrational thoughts of yours."

Miku bit her tongue. No point.

"Have you been eating?"

"Yes."

"Are you keeping yourself occupied?"

"Yes."

"I need you to go and grab the book that I gave you. It has Dr. Kasane's phone number. I told her you would call her after lunch."

"But-"

"Miku, I have trouble contacting that woman as it is. Just do this one thing to make my life a little bit easier. _Please_." That wasn't a request.

So the tealette did the only thing she could think to do: apologize, and leave, desperately ignoring the disappointment that was heavy on their faces, and in her chest.

The walk felt a thousand times longer when she went by herself. She tried to clear her mind, but the storefronts and the missing posters kept stealing her back into reality. She counted cracks as well as she could, and then she gave up. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the ghost of Kaito's voice was lingering in her head.

Sweat had pooled at her nape and brow. Her skin was tingling - too hot and too pink. She cursed her complexion while trekking onto Kiyoteru's front lawn. If nothing else, she figured she would relish the conditioned air. Her hand pursued the door before she remembered the need for a key.

"Oh," Miku felt the color flee from her face. She felt nothing in her pocket.

* * *

The funny thing about Macne was that he wasn't intended to die in Big Al's care. All they really gave him was a tiny syringe full of cold blood. He wasn't exactly brimming with health benefits, but Len wasn't so toxic that his plasma would cause cancer either. The worst it could do was sting like lemon juice in a stab wound.

That stupid man howled in agony for an hour before Len got fed up and abandoned ship.

He was going to get punished for walking out, but he didn't care. No one cared. Hell, not even Yohio cared. If he did, he wouldn't have dumped Len at their workplace and fucked off to some other assignment.

And Len was sure that his "dad" wasn't really working, anyway. He was probably at a café, chatting up some other equally lonely nobody. That was how he met Yuuma, and how he went on to ignore Len for three solid months.

Which led to a lot of anger. Which caused The Fight from four days ago.

Then an image of a bloody, confused Yohio flashed in his head. The taste of Hio's blood was still branded on his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 _Why am I still thinking about it? He's not badly injured. He swung first. He deserved it._ His stomach roared.

He started to fervently whistle a song that he'd been working on. He only really liked the chorus, the way it dipped into a low note before dissolving into silence, so he repeated it a couple of times. He shielded his eyes from the fearsome sun. It was actually rather hot outside. Because summer. Duh.

He didn't miss the hyper-attentive black bird, sitting on top of a street sign. He whistled at it. "D'you have the balls to follow me this time?" He laughed. "C'mon, Rei, are you still a chicken after all?"

Rei's wings ruffled up, but otherwise he did nothing to indicate that he would actually take up the challenge. Len chucked a bottle cap at him. Knowing Rei, he _would_ tell someone immediately that Len was being disobedient again. Maybe he'd tell Yohio. _H_ _e'll come running and be annoyed._

Then he walked down the street until he was right in front of a familiar little house, staring at the little white door. The lawn was bright with flowers. He thought it was nice, and since he was in such a terrible mood, he decided that looking at the sweet little home would do...something for him. He could pay a visit under the pretense of gratitude.

Yohio clearly had the hots for Kiyoteru. Maybe he would be willing to tolerate Len's company again if there was also an attractive adult around? Besides, Len already associated the home with home-cooking, and there was nothing more tolerable than hot food. But before he could go in and test his theory, someone was preventing him from advancing any further.

He looked down at the doormat and discovered a mousey tealette whose eyes were big enough to swallow him. Her fingernails were chewed ragged.

Len grinned the moment he looked at her face. He thought that Her terrified reactions were priceless. She was also rosy and soft-looking, and she smelled a bit like lavender. Not to mention how utterly defenseless she was... _Not worth it. Don't even touch her._ She wouldn't even have the chance to scream if he went for her jugular. _Kiyoteru would notice if she disappeared_ _._

He leaned down to her level, his nose nearly touching hers. "Boo!" He whispered.

Her first reaction was to flinch, then freeze up completely and hope she hadn't been seen. Her face flooded with a delicious crimson color.

"What're you doing out here?"

She didn't say anything, instead watching his smile. She was wary of his bared teeth. Well, if she had the sense to be scared, she wasn't brain-dead. Good for her.

"Is Mr. Hiyama not home?"

Her reluctance to respond was confirmation enough, although her being alone was really confusing. Hiyama seemed too maternal to let this kind of thing happen. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something black fluttering in the trees nearby. An idea struck him like a bolt of lighting. He tsked, shaking his head. "You know, someone has to be a complete jerk to leave a girl out on her own like this."

He locked his fingers around her arm and hoisted her up. She didn't even object, since her brain seemed to have imploded out of shear confusion. He tugged her along the path.

"What's your name again? Something weird?" The lack of conversation was really annoying, but she followed him without a fuss so he wasn't too troubled as he filled in the gaps of silence: "You strike me as a Wendy. Has anyone ever told you that you look like a Wendy?"

Apparently she had gone numb with shock. She just kept staring at him with her pink lips closed, her eyes getting impossibly wider and glassier. She was stuck in his clutches and she wasn't even thinking. So easy. It would have been so easy to just...

"You're barely human," she muttered.

Len dropped her arm, feeling as if her sun-warmed skin had burned him. He blinked at her. He inhaled.

"What?" He challenged.

"Go away." Her voice, although shaky, was rich with conviction that made something wriggle in his stomach. He wasn't the type to shiver or "get butterflies," as people so often said, but damn if this girl hadn't made him a little nervous. She felt how cold he was. She saw how long he went without taking a breath, how dry his eyes were. Still, being observant wasn't the same thing as being smart.

"And if I don't?" he began to circle her, slowly, waiting for her to do something. "What'll you do?" Of course she never moved.

She did respond, though. "You're creepy."

Somehow he was relieved. She must've just meant he was strange. Still, she had freaked him out, and he wanted a little revenge. "I wanna ask you something." he grabbed her arm again. She resisted a little more this time, but not nearly enough to get away. Her pulse was rapid, a lovely little beat that Len kept under is fingers.

"And that is...?" she said, her eyes careful and narrowed slightly.

"Is Kiyoteru a fag?"

The girl grimaced and attempted once more to free herself. Poor innocent creature - she couldn't understand why he could say such a nasty word. The battle of fear and indignance played over her face for a moment. She struggled with her words, but finally managed, "How is that any of your business?"

"It's not - but you definitely don't know, and you aren't saying anything to defend him."

Her lip was quickly turning red from how hard she bitten it. So pathetic. She wasn't going to say anything? Really?

Len heard a rustling behind him and remembered his objective. "I need you to come with me." As he tightened his grip, her head shook rapidly. She was fighting back for real now. She'd never be as strong as him, but it was irritating to put effort into something as basic as kidnapping.

He dropped his playful lilt and used his natural voice. "If you don't want to go, I can just leave you for the birds." he glanced at the flickering black shape in the corner of his eye. Rei's golden glare was piercing straight through him. Rei, who was shorter than Len, stood straight and proud like good little soldier. His human mouth was a thin, pale line that somehow managed to express distaste without ever changing.

Miku's heartrate bounced into overdrive when she saw the black-haired boy across the street. She didn't say anything, only looking up at the blond who confirmed with a nod that her instincts were correct. If Len was an animal, Rei was a fucking beast.

"This town?" he warns her, "It's dangerous for little things like you."


End file.
